


We Live in an In-Between Universe

by renquise



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Space was wide and cold and inhospitable, but Byulyi was pretty sure that it was home, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Live in an In-Between Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tide_ms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tide_ms/gifts).



“So, what are you going to eat first when we get to Europa?” Yongsun asked, nudging Byulyi.

If there was anything Byulyi had learned about space travel in six years of crewing a jump ship, it was that the subject of food was a conversation that inevitably started within the first week of any trip and carried on all the way through. If they ever wanted to make a career in entertainment instead of courier work across the solar system, Byulyi was pretty sure that they already had composed an entire suite of food-related songs, with enough left over for Wheein and Hwasa to have a meat-dishes-themed subunit comeback.

“Meat,” Wheein sang. “That doesn’t come in a can. And anything I see that doesn’t come in a pouch. Oh my god, remember food that don’t come in pouches?”

Hyejin sighed longingly. “Okay, I’m just hungry now. Can we do the jump so that we can eat dinner?”

“Oxtail soup,” Byulyi said, because it was all she’d been thinking of for the past two weeks.

Yongsun presented her hand for a high-five. “Ooh, good one. You’ve got yourself a food buddy date once we get there. Okay, are we good for the jump?”

Byulyi high-fived her, then plugged herself in at Yongsun’s signal, bending her head forward to click the jump connection into the port at the back of her neck, the motion of it familiar. 

One hyperdrive jump down, three to go, which was pretty standard for a courier run to Europa: two months, all in all, with the time needed to gather the power for the jumps. Maybe not the fastest, but definitely faster than most ships, and Byulyi was pretty proud of that.

As soon as she was connected, she could feel Wheein and Hyejin diving in together effortlessly, their lines weaving over and under each other, and then Yongsun’s resonant, shining tone joining them. Byulyi let the connection stabilize before she took a deep breath and added herself to it, slipped herself in to add a low, stable line and keep the four of them aligned.

Between one breath and the next, her body wasn’t just hers anymore. She was breathing somewhere, and she was the ship, and she was the four of them interwoven and guiding the ship through the jump. She was Yongsun’s steady heartbeat, and Wheein’s fingers curled over each other, and Hyejin’s calm breathing.

And Hyejin’s grumbling stomach, too.

Byulyi could feel Hyejin wondering what they should have for dinner as they went through the pre-jump systems checklist, the ship humming with energy. The tuning went quickly, the four of them so used to it by now that it was a reflex.

 _All good?_ Yongsun wove into her line.

There was a wave of affirmatives melded together, and Yongsun led them into the jump with her clear tone.

The jump took them, and Byulyi concentrated on her line, trying to keep a steady pulse under the fizzing energy of Wheein and Hyejin, matching it to Yongsun soaring and pushing all four of them through.

Jumps were never comfortable—there was always the squeezing, crushing feeling that pressed in on all sides of the ship, hot and suffocating. Byulyi could never get used to it, even though she had done it a thousand times before. She pulled her attention away from the sensation, focused on their four lines interweaving, pulling taut and gathering the space between them and their end point closer together.

There was a waver in Hyejin’s tone—she might have taken the brunt of the jump, this time.

Byulyi braced herself to catch her and compensate for it, but Wheein was already there, filling in the imbalance before Byulyi could register more than a wobble. Hyejin picked her line back up, and they were steady again.

Byulyi felt a warm rush of pride that might have been Yongsun, but could be any one of them, really.

And then, they were through, and space was wide and endless and cold around them again. Yongsun dropped carefully out of the connection, and Hyejin and Wheein followed. Byulyi stuck around for a beat longer to make sure everything was good, and then opened her eyes.

She was one body again, one heart and two lungs and ten fingers. Difficult to gauge how much time they had spent in the jump, as always: it always felt like an impossibly long time stretched between the space of two breaths. She checked her screen: they were on course, and they just needed to spread the solar sail for the next leg while they gathered enough energy for the next jump.

Byulyi stretched her arms above her head and felt her shoulder joints crack, sore all over from the usual jump aches. She unconnected herself from the port at her nape and slipped out of her harness to push off to Hyejin’s side, floating weightless across the cockpit.

“Hey, okay there?” she said, patting Hyejin’s arm. “That one was rough on you.” There was usually someone who took the brunt of a jump—more people piloting a ship through a jump just meant that there was less chance of it happening to you.

Hyejin groaned and massaged the back of her neck. “Ugh, yeah. I think you should give me a massage, unnie.”

Moonbyul laughed. "Okay, okay. Let's get some food in you, first." 

Wheein looked over at Hyejin from her station. Hyejin gave her a wave and an a-okay gesture, and Byulyi could see Wheein relax, turning her attention back to deploying the solar sail.

Yongsun floated over and hung on to Byulyi’s arm to keep herself anchored, giving a thumbs-up to Hyejin. “Good job picking it back up, Hyejin!” she said. “All right, deploy the sail, man the capstans, all that good stuff,” Yongsun called over to Wheein. It was always cute, the way that Yongsun got a little giddy after a clean jump.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Wheein said with a salute.

“What are capstans, anyway?” Yongsun mused, looking over to Byulyi. Byulyi was pretty sure that they had watched way too many old nautical dramas in the down time between jumps on this run.

“How can we have a captain who doesn’t know what capstans are?” Hyejin gasped theatrically. She still seemed a little wobbly from the jump, but she was bouncing back pretty quickly, none the worse for the wear.

“Don’t give me cheek, sailor, or I’ll keelhaul you. I’m not sure how to keelhaul someone in space, but it’ll be really terrible, whatever it is,” Yongsun said, doing her level best to look menacing, and mostly managing to look about as menacing as an especially fluffy pomeranian—which was to say that even if she followed through on the menace, you probably wouldn’t even mind, because it was so cute.

There was a solid smack of someone hitting something that made them all turn around again. Wheein pursed her lips and jiggled her control stick, then leaned forward to give the control panel another good whack, enough to make the stuffed lion velcroed onto Hyejin’s station bobble back and forth. “I think the sail mechanism is sticking again,” Wheein said.

Yongsun sighed. “Okay, we might have to hold off on buying meat when we get to the station, because we really have to get that properly fixed, this time. I’ll go and take a look. Wheein, mind coming with me? You might be able to see what’s up.”

Byulyi followed Yongsun as she pushed off herself out of the cockpit and through the ship to the airlock, and unhooked an EVA suit for her. It really took two people to get them on—there were slimmer models, now, but they didn’t really have the spare cash for them yet. Maybe soon, though. Once Yongsun was all equipped, Byulyi ran down the checklist, checking the suit connections, CO2 scrubbers, air mix, and then leaned towards Yongsun and smacked a kiss on her visor. 

“Careful out there, we don’t want to be down a captain. Someone would find you floating in space, and they’d be like, oh my god, how can she be so pretty even all freeze-dried and gross?” Byulyi said.

Yongsun groaned, slapping her shoulder, but Byulyi could see Yongsun’s grin, flushed and pleased. “You’re leaving lip prints on my visor,” Yongsun said, squinching up her face.

Byulyi grinned and pushed over to Wheein, helping her into her suit and checking her, too. “You’re all set,” she said, patting Wheein’s shoulder.

Hyejin floated over from the kitchen with chopsticks in one hand and an open pouch in the other. “Unnie, can you check the plating on that side while you’re out there? I don’t think we took any damage from that asteroid field last week, but just in case,” she said around the food in her mouth. She caught a stray noodle before it floated out of her open pouch of japchae and stuffed it in her mouth.

Byulyi waved to both of them through the airlock window before she pushed herself back over to Hyejin, making a sad face until Hyejin sighed and handed her the rest of her pouch.

 

Forty-five minutes later, and they were still out there.

It shouldn’t have taken this long. Byulyi drummed her fingers on the water heater in the kitchen, went to go do the maintenance on the oxygen garden, came back, and Hyejin was still waiting.

“Finally!” Hyejin said when Yongsun and Wheein cleared the airlock, crossing her arms with a mock-pout. “What took you so long?” She dropped her arms, her face turning serious.

Yongsun’s hair spilled out of her helmet when she took it off, drifting in a cloud around her head. She looked troubled. “So, turns out that we did take some damage.”

“It’s nothing major, just some plating that came off,” Wheein said. “That’s why it didn’t show up on any of the status scans. But we should shut off the secondary jump drive, just in case, because it’s looking kind of exposed out there, and I don’t want to push it too hard, in case it took some damage too—we can still jump with one, no problem, we just have to be careful with it.”

Yongsun and Hyejin both raked their hands through their hair, perfectly synchronized in a way that would have been funny if Byulyi weren’t familiar with the gesture from other tight spots they had landed in.

“So, fearless captain,” Byulyi said, nudging Yongsun and reaching for a light tone. “Do we go on, or should we go back?”

Yongsun tapped her fingernail against her teeth. “We’re halfway there, and we aren’t going to find a good drive technician before Jupiter,” she said, finally.

Wheein nodded in agreement, and Hyejin gave a thumbs-up.

“All agreed, then?” Byulyi said. “Okay. Come and eat, you don't want your reheated pouch noodles getting cold.”

"Ooh, lukewarm pouch noodles. You sure know how to treat a girl, Moon Byulyi," Yongsun said. 

She still had her lips pursed in thought when Byulyi helped her out of her suit, though. Byulyi poked Yongsun's back through the gap of her half-opened suit. "Hey, don't make such a worried face," she said.

Yongsun shook herself. "Yeah," she said. She wriggled out of the rest of the suit. "Come on, I bet you haven't even eaten yet, and there's only a couple of the acceptably tasty meals left, so we'd better get them before they disappear." 

A "hey!" floated out the kitchen, and Byulyi laughed.

 

The time between jumps always passed in a blur, because there really wasn’t much to do, outside of monitoring the ship, tending to the oxygen garden, finding novel ways of combining pouch meals, and composing another four-part acapella piece about grilled meat. 

They had their own rhythm, all four of them cradled in a little world that spanned the length of the ship.

The cycle of day and night was pretty arbitrary on any station, but it always seemed especially random while they were in transit, caught between the different schedules of stations and colonies and unconnected from the day lengths of moons and planets. Their version of night mostly involved turning out the interior lights and saying, okay, now it’s night, which worked most of the time.

Sometimes it left Byulyi laying awake, though, thinking about things and listening to Yongsun’s quiet, even breathing. She would go check on Hyejin and Wheein in the other crew cabin, because it soothed her to see them peacefully asleep. Even if there wasn’t such a thing as night out here, it was always then that the black emptiness outside their windows seemed unfathomably vast, and their quiet, dim ship fragile as an eggshell. It grounded her, somehow, to see Hyejin or Wheein shifting in their sleep, the steady rise and fall of Yongsun’s chest.

Tonight, though, Yongsun was still awake, Byulyi could tell.

She shifted in her sleeping bag and looked across the cabin at Yongsun curled in her sleeping bag attached to the wall. They had turned off the cabin lights at least two hours ago, but Byulyi still couldn’t hear the familiar sound of Yongsun falling off to sleep.

Byulyi untangled herself from her sleeping bag and pushed off gently from the wall to drift over to Yongsun.

“Can’t sleep?” Byulyi whispered.

“Yeah,” Yongsun said. She rolled over in her sleeping bag, then back again to face Byulyi. “Hey, was I right? To keep going?” Yongsun looked so soft, her hair fanned out behind her and her eyes dark and unsure, reflecting the status lights from a control panel.

Barring anything unexpected, the ship would have gathered enough power for the third jump by tomorrow.

“I don’t know,” Byulyi said. Yongsun had never wanted anything less than honesty from her, and she wasn’t about to change that now. “I think we’ll be fine, though—we’re more than good enough to make up for one disabled drive component.” Byulyi caught herself on the edge of Yongsun’s sleeping bag to keep herself from floating away.

“Come on,” Yongsun said, pulling her in. Their sleeping bags really weren’t meant for two, but Wheein and Hyejin always managed to nap together, so it wasn’t impossible by any means.

Byulyi wriggled in next to Yongsun, twisting her arm back to zip the bag shut behind her. She tangled her socked feet with Yongsun’s, poking at her toes to make her giggle.

"You still owe me that oxtail soup when we get there," Yongsun said, her voice soft even in the silence of the ship at night.

Yongsun tucked her head under Byulyi’s chin, settling with a sigh. They all used the same dry shampoo while they were on a run, but it smelled different on Yongsun, somehow, sweeter.

Suddenly, Byulyi was intensely aware of the smooth, bare skin of Yongsun’s legs against hers, her sleep shorts riding up her thighs. She swallowed. There was no way that Yongsun couldn’t feel her heart thumping fast with her head resting on Byulyi's chest, but maybe she was choosing to ignore it.

“Stop sniffing my hair,” Yongsun giggled, freeing a hand to press Byulyi’s nose flat. Byulyi made bitey motions towards her finger, which Yongsun took as encouragement to poke her cheek, too.

Byulyi didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed.

But they settled again, and Byulyi found herself actually sleepy. This time, when she closed her eyes, she fell away fast, warm and tethered.

 

By all rights, the third jump should have gone smoothly.

Byulyi didn’t know what happened—none of them did, or they would have felt something, eased out of the jump early.

All she knew was that one moment, they were connected in the jump, pulling the ship through with their parts in steady harmony, and the next, the jump hit her.

She couldn’t feel anyone.

Everything was dark, and she couldn’t feel anything, not Hyejin or Wheein or Yongsun, or even her own body. She couldn’t breathe.

She wrenched herself toward something, anything, tried to reach out and catch someone, and could only summon a weak, quavering line, didn’t even know if it matched anyone, couldn’t find herself, felt like the burning crush of the jump might break her and leave no trace behind.

And then: empty, cold space around the thin skin of the ship like a gasping breath. They must be through, god, they had to be through.

And then, the ache hit, sinking its teeth deep into her and pounding in her head. She couldn’t concentrate enough to reach out for everyone, see if they were there, if they were alright. She couldn’t find Yongsun’s clear tone.

There was a rush of panic through the connection, strong enough to pierce through, and then, she was alone again with the bone-deep ache.

The next thing she felt were shaking hands fumbling at her nape, unplugging her carefully, and she almost wanted to wrench the connection back in, because the connection diffused the pain a bit, made it so she didn’t feel it in every joint of her body, but she couldn't concentrate enough to make her hands do it.

“Byul, Byulyi, please, oh my god,” she heard.

She tried to catch the sound, anchor herself to it as always, but it slipped from her grasp like a golden fish. She could only feel its ripples as she sunk into the dark.

 

She woke up in her sleeping bag, her mouth dry and her head aching. 

Her vision blurred when she opened her eyes, and she thought she recognized the walls from the station she lived in while she was young, but that didn’t make sense. She did go back sometimes to visit, but it wasn’t home anymore, not exactly. She blinked and forced her eyes open wider. It was their ship, and the cabin she shared with Yongsun, and that made more sense.

She turned her head, finding Yongsun floating beside her and reading something on a tablet. It was nice, comforting. Byulyi wriggled her arm out of her sleeping bag and tugged at the edge of her sleeve.

“Hey! Hey,” Yongsun said, jerking her head up and reaching out to grip Byulyi’s arm, the tablet abandoned to pinwheel across the room. “How are you feeling?”

Byulyi tried getting out of bed, and decided it wasn’t such a good idea yet.

“Okay,” she croaked. “Sore, kinda.”

“That’s—that’s good,” Yongsun said. Her eyes were wide, and she looked like someone had taken the floor out from under her. She darted her eyes to Byulyi’s face before dropping them again, taking a deep breath.

Yongsun’s grip on her arm was tight, shaky. Byulyi didn’t know what to do.

"I'm okay," she said, again. And she was, really. Kind of sore, but it would pass, like all jump aches.

Yongsun bit her lip, and then looked up without catching her eyes. “She’s awake,” Yongsun called into the corridor. Her spine was straight, but there was a waver in her voice.

There was a clunk, and Hyejin and Wheein spilled into the cabin, their momentum sending them careening across the room and onto Byulyi’s sleeping bag.

“Do you know how much you scared us?” Hyejin said, punching her arm. She was smiling, though, her eyes bright and a little watery. 

“Sorry about that,” Byulyi said. She licked her lips. “I’m—I'm not sure what happened.”

Wheein shrugged. “We looked at it. It was just a freak accident, that kind of one-in-a-million surge that’s bound to happen sooner or later. Since our secondary drive was down, we just weren’t able to catch it before it hit you. It was rough, but we made it—we panicked for a sec when we felt you drop out, and we almost lost it, but Yongsun pushed us through.” She looked helpless, frustrated.

“Huh,” Byulyi said. She felt a surge of relief that she hadn’t let them down.

“We’re going to see if we can jury-rig something to get a buffer in there,” Wheein continued. “Just so we can catch it before it happens, even without the secondary drive.”

“Okay,” Byulyi said. She felt a wave of tiredness catch at her, pulling at her and making her eyelids droop, couching the ache in her body. “I’m just going to close my eyes again for a sec, okay?”

"That's a good idea," Yongsun said. Things were already fuzzy, but Byulyi could feel Yongsun’s eyes on her, careful and worried.

They were fine. The ship was whole, and everyone was fine, and that was what mattered.

 

Byulyi was back on her feet the next day—well, as much as you could be back on your feet on the ship. She felt fine, though—didn’t feel like an old shiphand with too many trips in weightlessness for their bones to handle, not like the day before. She took it slow, though, letting Wheein and Hyejin one-up each other in fussing over her in the most ridiculous way possible.

A week on, though, and Byulyi didn’t know how you could manage to avoid someone in a ship the size of a relatively spacious tin can, but Yongsun was managing it, somehow.

They had fought once or twice before—it was impossible to live with someone for years in a small space without hitting a nerve. This was something different, though, awkward and weird. It was almost like the very beginning, when it was just her and Yongsun in an even tinier ship, both of them shy and unsure and new to the business, too aware of the vulnerability of dropping into a jump connection with only each other for support.

Between helping Wheein with the drive modifications, Byulyi found herself drifting to the oxygen garden of the ship, even though it only needed weekly maintenance. The vivid green of the oxygen garden always looked almost almost unreal against the greys and calm browns of the rest of the ship and the black of space, but it was vivid and alive, and it was soothing to go through the simple tasks of checking the oxygen output of the plants. She usually did it together with Yongsun—it had been part of their routine since the beginning.

She saw Hyejin hovering in the doorway as she tweaked the irrigation system for the plants. She smiled and gestured for Hyejin to come closer.

Hyejin scooted closer to her, leaning against her side. "Hey," she said. "Wheein was going to offer you a foot massage, so I'm here to preempt her and ask first. So, do you want a foot massage, unnie?" 

Byulyi laughed and bumped her shoulder against hers. "I'm fine, oh my god. We're in zero g, why would I need a foot massage?" she said, "Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet.” Hyejin reached out to flick at the leaves of the plants, turning her hand back and forth under the lights. “Imagine having a garden big enough that we could grow fresh things to eat, too,” she sighed.

“Maybe someday?” Byulyi said. It was weird. They had so often talked about things that they could do, someday, things they could add to the ship, later on, places they could go, once they had the engine reach. Now, though, it seemed weirdly unreal.

Hyejin looked over at her, biting her lip. She curled her knees up, hugging them to her chest, her feet bare.

Then, she set her shoulders. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but maybe you should talk to Yongsun? I mean, it’s a small ship, and there’s only so long you can avoid each other.”

When she was all made up and dressed to the nines, Hyejin could look so much older than she was. It made a good balance for Yongsun looking deceptively puppy-faced and eager when they were brokering their contracts. But now, Hyejin looked painfully young.

Byulyi gathered Hyejin into her arms, and Hyejin leaned into her, flopping limply against her.

Wheein and Hyejin came as a package deal, they always had, ever since left behind their dusty moon colony together. Byulyi knew that if Hyejin was talking to her about something serious, she had probably pored over it for hours with Wheein beforehand.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry,” Byulyi said. She missed Yongsun. Missed all four of them together.

“You better,” Hyejin said. It might have been intended to sound scolding, but it mostly just sounded sad. Byulyi gathered her closer.

 

It took another two days for Byulyi to work up the nerve to catch Yongsun. By then, they were only a few days out from the next jump.

She ran into Yongsun on her way out the cockpit, catching Yongsun by her elbows and steadying them to keep them from spinning across the cabin. Yongsun's eyes went wide, her fingers darting to rest on Byulyi's arms before letting go.

Byulyi reached out for Yongsun’s hand, but then pulled her hand back to her side. It was weird, uncomfortable to not know where she stood with Yongsun—to not know if she would be welcome or not.

“Can we talk?” she said, instead.

“Yeah,” Yongsun sighed. She raked her hand through her hair, trying fruitlessly to keep it from floating into her face. “Sorry. I should have talked to you earlier.”

“It’s okay,” Byulyi said, trying on a smile. It strained her lips, and she dropped it as she led them into the kitchen. Serious discussions always seemed to happen there. Somehow, it helped, felt like a comfortable, neutral space.

Byulyi took a deep breath, just to see if Yongsun would say something first.

“We can’t do a safe jump like this, not if you don’t feel comfortable with me at the controls,” Byulyi said, when Yongsun didn’t say anything. She licked her lips, looking off to the side, to the darkness outside the window. “Look, it’s okay, I can find another crew once we’re at the station—there’s a bunch of people that pass by there on their way out the system, and you could find a fourth, no problem, it would only take a week or so to show them the ropes—”

She was babbling. There was a growing pit in her stomach, making her nauseous, tugging at her lungs and her insides and making her throat tight. It felt like glimpsing the event horizon of a black hole, something unknowable beyond that line, and knowing that if she tipped too far over it, there would be no going back.

Byulyi loved this ship. Loved Hyejin’s lion mascot taped to her control station, loved Wheein’s flowery dresses floating weightless and her practical bike shorts underneath, loved Yongsun’s bright eyes and bright hair and bright smile and bright heart, and she didn’t want to give it up.

“Oh my god, no, why would you do that?” Yongsun said. Her face was tight and upset. “It’s not you, Byul. I made a decision, and you got hurt because of it, and I. I can’t do that again.”

Byulyi whipped her head up to look at Yongsun, but Yongsun was looking at her hands, twisting her fingers together in her lap. Byulyi wanted to clasp her hands in her own and kiss her fingers, make it so they weren’t pale and colourless with tension.

“It was an accident. It could have happened to any one of us. I told you it was the right decision to go on, didn’t I?” Byulyi said instead, gently. “Can’t you trust me on that?”

“I know!” Yongsun said desperately. “I know. I do.”

“I know the risks of the job, and I don’t mind them, not if it means—” Byulyi said, and then stopped.

She took a deep breath, clenching her hand in the loose fabric of her pants.

“I like you a lot. Like, a lot, a lot,” she said.

Yongsun’s eyes went wide.

“I think you’re so pretty, and I think you’re an amazing pilot and the best captain, and I mean that every time I say it, I do, really—” Byulyi continued, helpless to stop it all spilling out of her. “And I want to keep on doing this with you. I want to keep on doing this for a long time.”

There was a long moment, Yongsun looking at her wide-eyed, the steady blinking light of a control panel casting a red glow on her cheek and the curve of her nose, and Byulyi hoped she hadn’t fucked everything up, hadn’t broken something irreparably. She could fix a lot of things, maybe not as many as Wheein, but she hoped she could fix this, at least.

“You’re embarrassing me,” Yongsun finally whispered, a lopsided smile spreading over her face. She pushed her hands into Byulyi’s hair, cradling her neck. The tips of Yongsun’s fingers brushed against her ship port at the back of her neck, and Byulyi shivered.

Yongsun drew her in and kissed her, soft and hot, like she was slipping a small, burning star into Byulyi’s mouth for her to swallow, the incandescent swell of it settling in her chest. Byulyi was pretty sure that she made an embarrassing noise into Yongsun’s mouth before she pulled Yongsun’s hair loose from her ponytail and wove her hands through Yongsun’s hair, and sent them floating free and pinwheeling across the kitchen. Her back bumped against a drawer, knocking something free, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, because Yongsun was kissing her desperately, her arms wrapped around Byulyi's neck.

Yongsun pulled away from her and took a shuddery breath, knocking her forehead gently against Byulyi’s. “Don’t scare me like that again, Moon Byulyi.”

Byulyi felt her throat go tight. “I’ll try not to.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Are you?” Yongsun's eyes were so serious and so pretty, and Byulyi wanted to kiss her a lot, wanted to follow her to the ragged edge of the universe, wanted to wake up in the mornings with Yongsun at her side with her hair mussed and her eyes soft.

Byulyi ducked her head. “Not without you guys, anyway.”

“Good. I would chase you across the universe to get you back, in any case,” Yongsun said dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder and setting it afloat.

Byulyi ducked her head, feeling her ears go red.

“Ha! See how that sort of thing makes you go all flustered? See?” Yongsun crowed, poking at her face.

Byulyi caught her hand and twined their fingers together. “Okay, okay, you’re right,” she said. She tugged Yongsun towards her, looping her hands around Yongsun’s waist and hooking her chin over Yongsun’s shoulder, just to feel her warm and close.

She shivered at the feeling of Yongsun slipping her fingers under her shirt, settling over her bare hip.

“Not in the kitchen!” Wheein shouted from the cockpit.

“Or let us grab some snacks first, if you are,” Hyejin chimed in. “Just toss them through the hatch, okay?”

Yongsun yanked her fingers back from Byulyi’s skin, flushing. “Hey, no eavesdropping!”

Byulyi squeezed Yongsun’s waist and pulled her close, giggling into her hair. “Maybe at the station? Permission for shore leave, captain? And that food date, if that’s still on.”

“Granted,” Yongsun said, waving magnanimously. 

It felt so good to play with her again. Byulyi could feel Yongsun go stiff in her arms, though. There was still the last jump between them and the station.

“Hey. Nothing is going to happen, not this time,” Byulyi said. She knocked her forehead gently against Yongsun’s. “Not with you there, right?”

“Right,” Yongsun said fiercely, and Byulyi believed her.

 

The last jump went without a hitch.

Byulyi settled into her station and strapped herself in, reaching over to ruffle Hyejin’s hair. She had it loose today, and it floated around her head like a fluffy mane. Wheein grabbed at her hands on the way by, demanding cuddles before Byulyi settled into her station.

She could feel the weight of eyes on her, and she looked over to meet Yongsun’s gaze. Yongsun looked a little pale, maybe, but determined. Byulyi thought she probably might look the same. 

When she reached behind her to plug herself in, Byulyi felt her stomach twist uneasily. Yongsun must have noticed her hesitation, because Yongsun stretched her hand out to her and slipped their hands together.

Byulyi plugged in and let herself drop into the connection, Yongsun’s hand a warm weight in hers.

She picked her line up, feeling it resonate steadily between the four of them.

Then, the jump bore them onward, shining and gold through the dark.


End file.
